


The Game

by melonbutterfly



Category: Sherlock (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, M/M, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-28
Updated: 2014-02-28
Packaged: 2018-01-14 02:10:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1248811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melonbutterfly/pseuds/melonbutterfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Screw being the audience, a pawn; he's a player in the game.</em>
</p>
<p>In which Loki is Sherlock and Tony is Moriarty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Game

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IsahBellah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsahBellah/gifts).



> The dialogue at the beginning is directly lifted from the series, more specifically, the episode "The Reichenbach Fall". I'm pretty sure you'll be able to tell where it deviates. ;)

Stark comes. Of course he does. Never could turn down an opportunity to gloat, not with how he's fixated on Loki as his audience – as the only one _worthy_ of being his audience. It would be a lie to pretend Loki is not flattered by that, especially since he knows that he deserves it, worked for it, even if not intentionally. It's been a while since Loki could properly show off his cleverness; everybody around him is just so slow, their minds sluggish, easily awed by what to Loki is a mere flexing of the muscles. At first it was vaguely entertaining watching them gape and stare, but it got old soon.

But there are very few people clever enough to figure out Stark and Stark's motives, and out of all of them, Stark picked Loki. Not Thor, who would arguably be a more worthwhile goal with his power and standing, clever in his own right if not as much so as Loki, but no, Stark picked Loki. Understimulated, bored Loki from whom he can take little and gain less. It's a rush like no other, and part of Loki, the part that's taken to sounding like Clint, reasonable and moral and _common_ , wants to chide him for the thought, cringes away, but Loki is finding it more and more difficult to remember just why Stark is so wrong. He's just so awfully _clever_ , is the thing, and what is wrong with that?

He's just so much _fun_.

Loki offers tea, cordial and polite the way he is to nobody else, and Stark accepts it, equally cordial and polite, that sharp smile he always seems to wear in Loki's presence playing around his lips. They sit, Loki in Clint's customary seat, Stark in Loki's. The symbolism does not escape Loki, nor does the fact that there is no doubt Stark must have arranged it that way on purpose. Very little he does in relation to Loki is not ripe with intention.

"But be honest," Stark says amid their casual- conversation. Not quite banter, not quite taunting, perhaps more flirting than Loki would be willing to admit. "You're just a tiny bit pleased."

One of Loki's eyebrows goes up. "What, with the verdict?" It had been a shock, at first. Loki had been sure, _so sure_ that they had had him. But a moment later he had realised that that had been the height of arrogance; no doubt they had been exactly where Stark wanted them, done exactly what he wanted them to. He'd been too blinded by his own perceived brilliance to see, but the moment of the verdict he realised the truth. No doubt they played their part in this elaborate game perfectly, and the realisation that Loki himself was just as much a pawn in that game was infuriating.

There is a script to this, and Loki followed it to a T.

"With me back on the streets." Stark smiles, wraggles his eyebrows. "Every fairy tale needs a good old fashioned villain."

Still, Loki is a pawn in the game, and that won't do, that simply won't do. Abruptly, he decides that that's it, he's done with this; screw it. He will not be played like a violin, part of an orchestra Stark conducts, nor will he be made the audience, made to watch and be awed. No, he is a player just like Stark in this game, and he will not allow for anything else anymore.

So he lets the smile he always holds back when Stark is involved bloom on his face; it speaks of excitement, the thrill of the chase, but more importantly, it makes ordinary people uncomfortable. It looks an awfully lot like bloodlust, Thor once told him, and that is not a good expression to have when crime and murders are involved.

Thor is not here, nor anybody else. But even if they were, the one of import is sitting across him, patiently sipping his tea, anything but ordinary.

And Stark looks surprised for just a fraction of a second before he manages to hide it. Loki took him off-guard; he did not expect what must to him be an obvious change in attitude. It's a rush, makes Loki's smile widen, and he leans forwards, lowers his voice to a deep purr as he says, "This is hardly a fairy tale, though, is it?"

Stark goes still and silent the way he rarely does, focused wholly on Loki now, and yes, that's what Loki wanted. Screw being the audience, a pawn; he's a player in the game.

Then Stark smiles as well, leans forwards until Loki can feel the phantom of his breath on his face. There is a challenge in his eyes as he says, "You tell me, Loki. Is this a fairy tale?"

If it is, it's one written by Angela Carter, where Little Red Riding Hood lures the wolf home because she wants to, wants him.

Loki, however inadvertently, has lured Stark home.

He smiles and breaches the last remaining distance between them, moulds his lips to Stark's, wet and hot from the tea. For that he has to get out of his chair, they're too far apart, and once he's there he might as well, so he pushes Stark back with one hand on his chest, straddles his lap as he deepens the kiss. The change in angle forces Stark to lean his head back, offer himself up like the heroine on the cover of a romance novel, and Loki thrusts his tongue into that hot, clever mouth and swallows Stark's surprised moan, the taste of milky bitterness on his tongue.

This is not a fairy tale.


End file.
